The Famous Sunshine Benches of St. Petersburg

Florida, not Russia.  It's amazing how an old postcard can lead you into the depths of strange, useless trivia.  I went to Google and typed in sunshine benches, St. Petersburg, not really expecting much.  I figured this card was nothing more than an advertisement for a bank, First Federal Savings, painted on the one bench. Was I wrong.  St. Petersburg was once was known as the city of green benches.  Way back when, in the first decade of the twentieth century, a local real estate agent put a couple of green benches in front of his office.  They became so popular with passers by, that in 1916, the St. Pete city council decided to install benches all over the downtown business district, that they all had to be green, and they all had to be the same size.  Now I can't imagine that sitting on a bench, next to parked cars, in Florida, especially in the summer was a pleasant experience, but it seems my imagination is a bit faulty on this one.  But unforeseen problems do have a habit of rearing their ugly head.  It seems that the benches attracted the wrong sort of people.  No, not criminals.  Not drug dealers.  Not unruly teens, smoking and making rude comments to proper young ladies.  The benches attracted the elderly.  Old people sitting in the sun, not spending money.  Just imagine, old people in Florida!  In the early sixties, someone on the city council came up with the bright idea of painting the benches in pastels.  Surely orange, yellow, and pink benches would attract shoppers with money to spend.  Didn't work.  In 1967, by order of the city, all the benches were removed.  The old people did not go away.  And that is how civilizations fall.

The message on the back, "Feb 12th Hope you are feeling fine again from your opperation the 16th we are going over to visit the Pedricks.  I am having a nice time and feeling fine.  We are having a lot of rain. Love Aunt Irene."  Mailed to "Mr. & Mrs. B. J. March & Buddy, Road, Schwenksville, R.D. 2, Pa."  And the postmark, "PINELLAS PARK, FLA  FEB. 13, 1964"

Lana Turner

Imagine.  It's the 1940s and you've saved your money so  you can visit Hollywood.  You go to the restaurants you've read about in the fan magazines.  You hang out at the studio gates, and take the tour bus to the home's of the stars.  And in the end, the only movie stars you see are the ones on the postcards sold at the corner news stand.  Remember, it's Hollywood, where people make up stories for a living.  The folks back home can be told anything, and who's the wiser.

Oh Lana Turner, what a life she lead.  Born in 1921 in Wallace, Idaho, as Julia Jean Turner, she moved with her family to sunny southern California when still a child.  No, she wasn't discovered at Schwab's Drug Store, but at a small cafe near Hollywood High School.  The rewards of skipping class.  She made a lot of movies in her career, and by any standard  was a successful actress.  A lot of those films were good movies and a couple have withstood the test of time.  Most notably, The Postman Always Rings Twice (1946), The Bad and the Beautiful (1952), and Imitation of Life (1959).  Unlike a lot of glamour girls, Turner could act, and while the parts disappeared as she aged, she never officially retired.  Eventually she would make her way to television and make a notable turn on the night time soap, Falcon Crest.  Her last movie was Thwarted, a low budget film made in Florida.  It was made in 1991, just a few years before her death in 1995.

Lana Turner also had an adventurous private life, going through seven husbands, and more than a few lovers.   To put it mildly, she didn't always make the best choices.  There were husbands that hadn't gotten around to divorcing previous wives.  Physically abusive husbands, including one, actor Lex Barker, who was alleged to have  raped Lana's teen aged daughter, Cheryl Crane.  And then there was boyfriend, Johnny Stomponato.  Stomponato was a gangster and member of the Mickey Cohen crime family.  Lana and Johnny took up  in 1957.  Lana tried to break things off, but Johnny Stomponato wasn't the type of man to leave when asked.  In 1957, Lana took a part in a movie being made in England, Another Time, Another Place, opposite a young Sean Connery.  Johnny followed her to England and  confronted Connery with a gun.  Sean Connery decked Stomponato with one punch, disarmed him, and turned him over to the police.  When Lana Turner returned to Hollywood, Johnny Stomponato was waiting for her.  And then he was dead, stabbed to death in Lana Turner's house.  The official story is that Stomponato was beating her and that Lana's daughter, Cheryl, stabbed Stomponato, defending her mother's life.  But of course, it's a Hollywood story, so there are rumors of murky cover-ups.  The most popular is that Lana and Johnny had reconciled, that things had gotten rough, and that Lana did the stabbing, and that after consultation with studio lawyers and publicity men, it was decided that Cheryl should take the blame to save her mother's career.  In 1958, the  DA decided that Cheryl Crane's actions were justified and no charges were filed.

I Want What I Want...

...When I Want it.  I'm not even going to try and make out what's written on the back of this card.  It's just too faded.  I'd criticize the writer for not using a more permanent ink, but then again, the writer probably assumed that this card would be thrown away fairly quickly.  I wonder just how racy this was when it was purchased.

Aunt Fronia

I bought this real photo postcard at the same time, and from the same dealer, as the previous post.  The handwriting on the back is similar, but in my opinion, not a close enough match to be sure that they are related.  And the caption, "Aunt Fronia Kerney and half sister Laura."

Little Pauline

Another real photo postcard.  Labeled "Pauline Fay Buckner."  My mother would go crazy when I sat on a chair like this.

Four Chums

I'm going to do postcards for awhile.  Sooner or latter I'll get tired of it and move on to snapshots, or photo albums, or something else.  But for the time being, it's all postcards all the time.  Just a bit on dating early postcards.  Up until 1898, the U.S. Post Office, in the United States, had a monopoly on the printing of postcards.  After 1898, private publishers and individuals were allowed to make cards, but the post office retained control over the term postcard so privately produced cards were referred to as private mailing cards.  After 1901, the post office ceded it's exclusive use of the word postcard.  Up until 1907, it was against postal regulations to write anything on the back of a card, except the address.  Cards had undivided backs, lacking the line that divided the address from the area allowed for messages.  So, this is a privately produced card, labeled postcard, with an undivided back, so it should have been made between 1901 and 1907.  That is if the person who printed this card hadn't saved a box of card stock for a decade or two.

Written on the back, "Ruby"

Five Men, One Woman

Here's a nice little group photo.  Take a look at the lady's feet, all at odd angles.  In the age when ladies wore voluminous skirts, they could be seated in a photo and it would look like they were floating in air.  I'm sure this woman has to seated, but with her clothing hiding the chair, she has the quality of a levitating magicians assistant.  Perhaps she'll float away into the nether regions.  And what a collection of hats.